


the kids are alright / ptg + clc

by withshinwon



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Other, idk who hongseok is gonna be with yet tbh but i put him with ggu just in case, literally idk, pls read yall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withshinwon/pseuds/withshinwon
Summary: The kids are alright. . . or are they?Byeol University is turned upside down by these rowdy kids, who seem to create catastrophe wherever they go.college! au. slice of life! au. dramedy with a dash of angst and romance.





	the kids are alright / ptg + clc

**Author's Note:**

> pls guys, im beggin ya

KIM HYOJONG doesn't expect to find the most beautiful girl on the planet in his bed, for multiple reasons. Unlike Hongseok, he isn't dripping in good looks or charisma, and unlike Shinwon, he isn't a social fucking butterfly who makes you laugh even though half of his jokes are really bad. Hyojong is just the guy you go to when you need that 'good kush', because that's the only thing he's good at, besides being a loser. So again, he has no fucking idea why a goddess is in his arms that morning, or why it looks like she wants to be there.

But is he complaining? No.

"Good morning, I see you're awake," the boy hears, in that perfect, beautiful voice of hers. Hyojong wants to whisper, who wouldn't be awake with you here, but his leftover breath probably smells like cheap liquor, weed, and Top Ramen seasoning (which is never a good combination), so he thought better of it and sat up instead.

In response, the girl tightens her soft arms around his waist like a pillow, while her reddish hair scrunches up as she moves, but she doesn't care. Her sparkly, glittery gold eyelids flutter open, while mascara lightly rings her eyes, just a little.

God, he thought. How the fuck. . .

He leans back into the headboard and looks at the wall like it's going to provide him with some logical answers (although logical was never really his thing). His mind is conflicted on how to feel, compromised from the old high. "Hyuna?"

"Mhm."

"Did we have sex?" he asks.

A giggle slips past her cherry tinted lips. "We smoked, got trashed at a party, and made out for a long time," Hyuna says without hesitation. "But no, we didn't have sex."

He sighs, either in relief or disappointment, but he's certainly confused now. Hyojong wants to ask, why didn't we— not to sound like an entitled asshat— because in what world would he have refused a chance to have sex with someone like Kim Hyuna?

"You fell asleep the minute I took my shirt off," she teases. Well, that's probably why I'm still in my jeans, he assumes.

"No way," he says, even though he knows that's some shit he'd do. A light blush and a groan follow in embarrassment. "Really?"

"Reallllly," she insists, and he groans. Then, Hyuna pinches his cheek, catching him off guard. "But it was cute, don't worry."

When Kim Hyuna says that, his heart does a bunch of fucking cartwheels and backflips, the things he couldn't do for shit in PE class. Despite his happiness, he has to ask, "Did I like, roofie you? On accident?"

Hyuna lightly trails her fingertips along his naked torso, making his hairs stand on end. Breaking down each syllable, she says, "No, you didn't." The sound of a sweet chuckle fills the dirty room, the one that Hyojong apparently brought her to, which is still something that he can't wrap his bleached blonde head around. Before Hyojong can say anything, his phone buzzes under the sheets, one loud bzzt! after another.

He rubs his thin, tired eyes and searches for his phone as the racket continues, quietly muttering curses along the way. Accidentally, his roaming hand touches Hyuna's inner thigh and he's halfway into saying, fuck, sorry, before he feels a familiar vibration between her legs. 

(God, why is he even in this situation?)

"The marimba?" She snakes her hand under the sheets and retrieves his phone, saving Hyojong the awkwardness of asking. "Sexy."

Hyuna laughs, compelling Hyojong to laugh too. At that moment, he remembers why he likes her so much. Aside from the drop dead gorgeous looks, she commands attention with every move she makes, but in all of the right ways. Sometimes, it makes him forget all of the shit he deals with.

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt—

uwuseok sent you a post!

uwuseok spiLL DA TEA

His loud friend had sent him a photo from Hyuna's account, one that he doesn't even remember her taking with him, therefore, he can't explain it either. One thing is for sure, though: Hyojong was pretty high that night.

"Ooooh! We look so cute here," the girl gushes, leaning into him as he stares at it. "Especially me!"

"You're so right," he mocks.

weedman i blazed it n got wasted 

weedman am i under arrest ??

uwuseok can u read ?1?1?1?

uwuseok the captION U FOOL

The caption. . .

Then, the caption.

"We're dating?" the boy randomly blurts out, choking on his own spit for a second. "Or are you just joking?"

She raises a nicely trimmed eyebrow at him and waves her glossy gel manicure over the comforter. "Would I be in your bed if we weren't?" Hyuna asks, sarcastically.

Hyojong shrugs. "I'm sure you've had one night stands," he bluntly responds, more as a compliment than a comeback. "If you call this a one night stand? The best sleepover ever maybe. . ." The girl half-heartedly hits him in the shoulder with a lumpy pillow and he laughs again.

"Fine," she huffs, flopping back into sleeping position. Then, she turns on a petty smile and closes her eyes, pretty while doing so. "Don't be my boyfriend then."

Hyojong lightly squeezes her shoulder and apologetically smiles, but he can't help but snicker. "I'm kidding, Hyuna. It's an honor to be your boyfriend," he assures her while pretending to salute. "I'm just wondering how it happened, that's all." Thinking about life, he sinks back into the mattress as he loosely holds his phone.

She mischievously grins, ready to unleash a boatload of hazy memories. "It was super romantic," she starts, with a fond look. "I made out with a stripper for a dare, and you got all sulky and said, 'Why don't you kiss me like that?' And I said, 'Because we're not dating,' and then you said, 'Let's date then.'" Her smile turns into something purer when she remembers, "The minute I said yes, you kissed me in the rain."

What is it with people and the rain?

"That sounds cool," Hyojong genuinely says, in awe. (It sounds like some shit from The Notebook, which is pretty fucking extreme.) Sure, he's had a crush on Hyuna since the day he met her in an abandoned roller rink, but he never expected to get this far, or anywhere, for that matter. "Why do I feel like you're lying about the rain though?" he asks, jokingly suspicious.

"You don't remember?" she asks, and he tilts his head as if to say, what do you think? "Well, it was pretty hot, if I say so myself."

Ugh, he thinks. I don't even remember the best moment of my life, because I was wasted as fuck. "You're lying," he teases.

Hyuna dramatically feigns a gasp and gets out of the sheets, revealing her mismatched lingerie. (For your information, it was baby pink laced underwear, accompanied by a black bombshell.) "I'm not even lying," she argues, but can't help smiling.

"Sure—"

Bzzt, bitch!

huidad where are you?? 

huidad im parked outside

weedman ok but why?

huidad think long and hard 

weedman u know my brain is fucked my dude

Watching the typing bubble makes him dizzy and tired.

huidad IT'S A SCHOOL DAY

"Thank god I'm not in school anymore," Hyuna says, audibly sighing in relief. She's reading their conversation and giggling. "Is this the Huitaek you talk about all the time?"

Hyojong nods, as he reads another text from Hui. It says: Kim Hyojong, you have five seconds to get into this car or I'm leaving, to which he replies, lmao you wouldn't. "Yeah, and he's a dick."

huidad k

Shit, he's serious, he thinks. Better get moving then. He rapidly texts Hui back, then forces his body to function as he stifles a yawn.

"You don't mean that," she replies, laughing.

"No, I don't," he tells her, starting to get sit up. His hand rakes through his dry and unwashed hair like a plastic comb. "But it feels better to say that than to admit that he picks me up for school."

"What happened to your car?"

"It got totaled," he answers, not delving into the details. It's the first day of having a real girlfriend for Kim Hyojong and he isn't going to say, 'Yeah, my crazy ass mom crashed it.' (Only Hui knows that.) 

Thankfully, Hyuna doesn't press him for an explanation. He ugly yawns and sits on the edge of his bed, trying to get a grip on everything. "I wish I could just fucking wake up without feeling like trash," he mutters, even though he knows that the feeling is only the result of his actions. Does he regret any of them? Maybe, maybe not.

"Don't we all?"

"True," the boy sighs. Then, he slightly turns his head, about to ask Hyuna if she wants Captain Crunch or Fruity Pebbles, but stops when he feels her hands on his shoulders, the lace of her bra pressed against his back. It's a cold sensation, but the heat of her sweet breath sends Hyojong into a trance.

"I can make you feel better," she says, soothingly. Hyuna ghosts her lips over his neck and whispers, "You just need a little wake up call, baby."

Sweet.

Jesus.

Fuck.

"And how do you plan to do that?" Hyojong asks.

Her hands lovingly roam over his chest, like velvet honey. "I have my ways," she simply answers, before moving down his beating chest, painfully slow, but close enough to dangerous territory. Finally, her fingertips slip past his waistband, and—

BAAM!

"KIM. HYO. JONG," a familiar voice hollers, bursting through his bedroom door. It's in this moment that he regrets giving his best friend the key to his apartment, for so-called emergencies. "IF YOU THINK I'M GOING TO SIT IN THIS CAR LIKE A CHAUFFEUR, SO YOU CAN DO WHO KNOWS WHAT, YOU HAVE. . ."

Hui looks at Hyuna, then to Hyojong.

". . . another. . ."

Back and forth, back and forth.

"What the-" Hui exhales. "-fuck, Hyojong?"

The boy in question chucks a pillow at Hui's agape face, who easily catches it in mid-air, unfazed. (Which is usually only something Hongseok and Yuto are capable of.) "Don't you knock?" he asks, in exasperation.

Hui crosses his arms and cocks an eyebrow while leaning against his doorframe. This image reminds Hyojong of his mom, if she was sober, or if he even knew where she was. "Don't I knock?" he asks, even though everyone in the room knows for damn sure, it's not a question. "How can you tell me to knock, when you didn't even knock when I was—"

"You do not want to finish that sentence," Hyojong says, on the verge of snickering. "Not with a girl in the room."

Hyuna hits Hyojong's shoulder, who winces and smiles at Hui. "Don't make fun of him, it's totally normal—"

"And totally fucking hilarious, I mean just imagine—"

His best friend's face flushes in a shade of bright red. Hyojong attempts a sympathetic look, but just can't. He's already laughing, and Hyuna is too, which causes his best friend to redden even more. "Whatever, you get my point!" he says, defensively. "Plus, I wasn't doing. . . stuff, at-" He checks his phone. "-seven fifty-three am."

Hyojong looks at his phone too, and says, "Damn, you're right."

"Of course I am, space cadet!" Hui remarks. 

Hyuna giggles and whispers in his ear again. She says something along the lines of, you better get dressed, to which he responds, now, who wants that?

"Did he roofie you?" Hui asks, dead serious, and starts to go off on a tangent. "Because if he did, I'll kill him, then I'll take him to the police real quick. Blink once if you're scared—"

Hyojong cuts his friend a look that says, bro. (Then again, he had asked that same exact question.) "What? That's literally the only reasonable explanation for this," Hui adds, apologetically glancing towards Hyuna, "No offense."

She casually adjusts her bra and waves her hand, making Hui look away. "None taken."

Hui can't comprehend what's happening right now, but his face says I think I'm ready to off myself with a smile. "Well, it was really nice meeting you, noona," he tells Hyuna, awkwardly breaking each syllable of the sentence down. Hyojong earns a smile from Hui too, except it looks deadly from his point of view. 

"I'll be going now," Hui announces. Then, he promptly leaves the room and closes the door behind him. All Hyojong can think is, well, fuck.

Suddenly, Hyojong's head is shoved through a white shirt by Hyuna, who smiles. "We'll have some fun later," is all she says, before he quickly (and gratefully) pecks her cheek, runs out of the apartment, and hazardously stumbles his way downstairs, his phone in hand. To the boy's surprise, Hui is still in his car, and it doesn't look like he's moved an inch. In fact, Hui seems really startled when Hyojong raps his knuckles onto the window.

"What's up?" Hyojong asks like nothing happened. In answer, Hui rolls his eyes and unlocks the door, the one that he merrily swings open. He has a feeling that he's forgetting something, but he doesn't really care at the moment. All he can do is spare Hui a cheeky ass grin as he clambers into the passenger seat. "'Thought you said that you were leaving me, Lee Huitaek."

"Leaving you is difficult." His friend slowly turns his head to face him, one hand on the steering wheel. The look on Hui's face is unreadable at first, but then it morphs into half-hearted annoyance. "Like, when I see a piece of trash on the ground, I don't want to pick it up, but then my heart says, 'You have to pick it up, Huitaek, or the world is going to die faster than Iggy Azalea's career.'"

Hyojong whistles, "Since when were you so savage?"

"Since today," Hui replies, checking the rearview mirror. "You always bring out the worst in me, Hyojong."

He lazily widens his grin and says, "Which is why we're friends, Hui."

"Whatever," is all Hyojong gets back from his friend, but at that moment, Hui's small smile speaks more than words do. Finally, he finesses his way out of the parking lot and speeds all the way to Byeol University.

 

☹

 

HE HASN'T gained this much attention since unicorn vape came out, which is startling for Hyojong. Considering that his ragtag group of friends and 'clients' are the only form of human contact that he has, he's surprised when the hustle and bustle of public school parts for him like the Red Sea. It's only been a few hours now, and Hyojong doesn't know what to make out of all the eyes staring at him.

"Looks like you're the new king," Hui says, with a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. Hyojong slowly nods even though he's absolutely lost, which is nothing new. "News travels fast." Click. Clack. His locker opens. "Then again, she has about four point seven thousand followers and counting. . ."

"What news?"

Hui rolls his eyes and heaves a sigh. "Hyuna. And you. Dating," he says, spelling it out for Hyojong. "It's a kinda big thing to people."

Kinda a big thing is an understatement, of course; Hyojong could feel the stares burning holes into goddamn back and chest. Not to mention, social media has garnered Hyojong attention he's never sought after.

hoon_b2b94 fuckin cunt

hoon_b2b94 ill fuckin rip ur dick off

"I mean, everyone else is dating, and I'm pretty sure that the new social norm here is banging in the orchestra pit," he mentions. "Who cares?" What's the big deal?

"I don't know, maybe the entire student body?" His casual bluntness nearly bursts Hyojong's mint flavored bubble. "I might have to temporarily disable my phone just because I'm associated with you."

He doesn't think disabling his phone will silence the rumors— nor the frenzied, fabricated truths— being spread throughout the school. The plan was to sleep through class as per usual, but his ears can't help but perk up at the sound of his name being dragged around the classroom like a new toy.

Hyojong wonders why Hui isn't grilling him about it yet, like a mom — what he had expected to hear was are you crazy, Kim Hyuna in your room, and several, hard thumps on the head, which, he was always the main receiver of.

"And you?"

There is a subtle slam after the question. A small smile follows the raised eyebrow, but there's a slight change in his tawny eyes, as if they went from watercolor to matte. Hui shrugs as they walk towards the cafeteria, and in spite of his sluggishness,Hyojong strides a little faster to open the door for his friend. "What about me?"

"How do you feel about it?" (The meaning of it was understood by their best friend telepathy.)

Setting down his books on the table, Hui shrugs again. "I mean—" He pauses to take out his lunch, which is sweet potato noodles, white rice, and soybean sprouts. A light snapping noise is heard after he breaks apart a two pairs of chopsticks, one for Hyojong, who gratefully helps himself to some rice. "—it's hard to believe, but I'm happy for you."

And that's all Hui has to say before he begins to eat, so Hyojong brushes it off.

"Hyungs!" a familiar, cheerful voice exclaims from not too far. Kang Hyunggu waves as he approaches them, slivers of his skin peeking through his denim ripped jeans, looking messy, but fashionably messy. "Wassssss poppinnn'?"

"Kino sweetie, I advise you to never say that again. Not in front of my japchae," Hui says, but nevertheless pulls out a seat next to him. "And nothing much, except Hyojong and his grave."

Hyunggu— aka, Kino— is instantly curious and wide eyed, flitting between the two of his friends. "His grave?" he questions, right when Hyojong says, "I'm not going to my grave, Huitaek."

hoon_b2b94 u think this is some joke ?

hoon_b2b94 i WILL run you and ur guts over twice

hoon_b2b94 watch yourself

Hui snatches the phone from Hyojong and rolls his eyes as he flicks upwards. "None of this concerns you?" he asks Hyojong. "Maybe you should say something. . ."

Kino looks over and reads along with him, munching on his white cheddar puffs. "Kinda sounds threatening, hyung," the younger says, nonchalantly.

"Relax. He just sounds like a repressed emo teenager with violent tendencies," Hyojong replies, not thinking too much of the texts, and simply blocks the messenger. "And I just blocked him. So no worries there."

"Okay, but—" Hui starts to ask, but he realizes that his reasoning is pointless. He sighs, deciding to switch the topic of discussion away from Hyojong, Hyuna, and Hoon whoever the fuck. "Where's the others?"

Kino thoughtfully rests his chin in the palm of his hand, tapping against his coral colored lips as a habit. "Hmm. . ." he muses. "Yuto, I think, is doing whatever he does in the rooftop, and Shinwon, I know, is showing this new kid around the school." 

(Hyojong can just imagine Shinwon going, 'So, this is the soccer field, where I went streaking. . .')

The boy continues, "The others were behind me, but—"

"HYOJONG, YOU SLICK FUCK!"

"WATCH YOUR MOUTH!"

In the distance, he spots the combative duo hurtling themselves in their direction— well, actually, no— Jo Jinho is holding onto Jung Wooseok's backpack strap for dear life, like a tiny passenger experiencing turbulence on a gigantic human bullet.

"YOU'RE NOT MY DAD!"

"I MIGHT AS WELL BE—"

"HEY— URK!"

Before an insult can be uttered into existence— your mom or a simple fuck you— a random, Herculean hand yanks Wooseok's neon hoodie back, bringing him to an full, abrupt stop. The sudden change of course propels Jinho forward into the air like a sling shot, and suddenly, the smaller is stumbling and tumbling onto the ground, and like the terrible human being Hyojong is, it's physically difficult to stop cackling at the pitiful, yet majestic sound of each ddu du du du du.

Well, that is, until Hui smacks the side of his head.

"Stop. Fucking. Laughing," Hui snaps at Hyojong. Then, he crounches down next to the man sprawled out on the floor, who tiredly mumbles, "Just leave me here. I'll just die. It's fine."

Gently, Hui runs his fingers through Jinho's blonde bangs, attempting to comfort him. "Yang Hongseok, we've talked about this," he says, with a mixture of softness and exasperation, marking the beginning of a motherly scolding.

Witnessing the sweet gesture, Hyojong rubs the back of his head and winces, ghosting over the bump hidden beneath his bleached mop of hair. The duality of this man.

Hongseok spares his usual radiance in the form of an apologetic smile and places his hand on the nape of his neck, instantly catching the eyes of girls and guys in the hallway. It's almost impossible not to be entranced by the sight of his basic features— chiseled jaw, glowing tan skin, pretty eyes, and defined biceps— but what really reels them in is the smile. (And this is coming from Kim Hyojong, the straight guy who is somehow dating Kim Hyuna.)

". . . I forgot my strength?"

"Oh yeah, sometimes I forget that I have the goddamn strength of a goddamn bull," Jinho drily remarks. With the help of Hui, he gets up and brushes shoe dirt off of his pink sweater. Wooseok is still coughing from the whiplash around his neck, but mumbles, "Watch my mouth. . ."

"Well, I don't really—" Hongseok starts to say, but once Jinho sends him a really sharp, cute glare, he quickly swallows an oncoming chuckle down his throat and changes the subject. "Well, at least I stopped Wooseok from ramming into someone."

Everyone turns to Hyojong, who glances behind his shoulder, as if they're looking at anyone else— but he isn't that stupid. "What?"

There's a rapid fire of questions, ricocheting in dozens of directions.

"Hyuna? The nation's goddess, Kim Hyuna?"

"How did that happen?"

"Hyojong?" Cackling. "Ours?"

"Isn't her dad apart of the mayor's office?"

"I thought he was a some gang lord."

"What does her pussy taste like tho—"

WHACK!

Hit in the head with a rolled up stack of paper of sorts, Wooseok dramatically cries out in pain and hurt lines his childish face. "Why?" he whines, "Why does everyone abuse me?"

Yeo Changgu puts down his arm and dusts off his shoulder, sighing at the sight the smallest particle on his grey blazer. His entire appearance is neat and orderly, with the sophistication of a college professor and not a college student, especially as he promptly straightens out his blazer and adjusts the neckline of his cream colored sweater underneath. Hyojong almost admires how put together he is.

(But on second thought, he doesn't really want to be put together anymore.)

"I don't know if you all and the colossal idiot noticed, but some of us are trying to get places," Changgu retorts, whipping his papers back into tip top shape, with no wrinkles or curl visible. His essay looks like a solid white brick from afar, titled Why I Just Cannot Deal With This Shit, by Yeo Changgu.

(Okay, so maybe it doesn't say that.)

Bitterness is obvious in his tone, but it's cast through the groggy voice of a man who stayed up until three am, and beneath the uptight attitude etched on Changgu's face are eye bags.

"Did your group flake on you?" Hongseok asks Changgu, who falls out of the dazed state he momentarily slipped into, as he never did. "Again?"

"It's fine," Changgu sharply answers, but he accepts the granola bar Hongseok magically whips out of his backpack.

Hongseok softly pats his friend's head, which is a gesture that Changgu only allows for a moment. Soon, his familiar, pompous composure returns to him a second later, and he removes himself from Hongseok's touch, neatly realigning each strand of black hair into its rightful place after doing so. "It's not like I put their names on it anyways," he adds, before strutting off.

"The stick seems further up his ass then usual today," Wooseok notes. "Emphasis on today."

"I rather have a stick up my ass then be a 'colossal idiot,'" Jinho mutters. ("Hey!" the said colossal idiot exclaims.) "But I rather be a dumbass than a dead man."

"He's going to his grave, I told him."

"No, I'm not, that's—"

BOOM!

Hyojong is planning to finish his sentence with the words 'absolute fuckery,' but he's cut off by a loud slam from the double doors as a large group men burst into the cafeteria. The members of the crew looks similar to their age, if not a few years older, but they definitely seem rougher around the edges. Each of them carry the same dark look in their eyes and the inked emblem along their forearms: B2B.

Born to beat.

"KIM HYOJONG!" a voice bellows, so loudly, that it silences the entire cafeteria. "COME OVER HERE AND GET YOUR ASS KICKED!"

The groups separates into two and move to opposite sides in order to form a walkway for their leader, who gladly steps through it with ease. His reddish hair flicks up as he jerks his head around, barking his mouth off with curses. When the man switches from scowl to smirk, his lip piercing becomes noticeable, and that's when the rest of them do— above his brow bone, in his ears, in five different places. Along with that, there are tattoos scattered along his toned arms, clearly out for display.

The only thing that doesn't seem typical is the hot pink, button down dress shirt he happens to be wearing, except it's open and the world is free to see his ripped torso. (So yeah, the color pink doesn't mean shit and the crow bar in his grip is looking more and more lethal by the minute.)

Jinho whispers to Hyojong, who tries not to gulps. "It's Jung Illhoon, the leader of B2B gang."

"Jung Illhoon? Wasn't he—"

"Isn't he—"

"—Kim Hyuna's ex boyfriend?"

And like the dead man he is, Hyojong says, "Oh, fuck."


End file.
